


Halo

by theowletqueen (nerdqueenenterprise)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, But really sappy like seriously, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, So I let Sam suffer for a while but ... IT'S FOR A GOOD CAUSE or something, True Forms, Wingfic, Wings, namely y'all's entertainment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8513761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/theowletqueen
Summary: Gabriel takes Sam to a hut in the Rockies for a romantic getaway. Not everything goes according to plan, until it does.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was legitimately in the works for ten months, simply because I didn't get chapter two written. Then the amazing and wonderful Aaliya (Miniatures here and wordssometimesfail on tumblr, go check her out), who I'll love to death for taking a look at this fic, came along and read it and made me feel good about it, so I finally finished it <3

Sam knows exactly when he’s been that cold before, and he’d rather not think about that, thank you very much. He tries to tell himself that this is different, this is Gabriel, his mate, the one man - being - he loves more than anything else in the world, and if Gabriel wants to walk through a blizzard with him somewhere in the Rockies (aka the complete other side of the States from where he and Dean had been working), well then he’d humor Gabriel even though he terribly hates being cold. He does his best to hide his discomfort from their bond, though, and instead focuses on the warmth of Gabriel’s hand enveloped securely in his own. He likes the fact that his boyfriend is smaller than him a lot. It’s a lot of fun manhandling the archangel around and shoving and pushing him a little, and Gabriel in Sam’s shirts (or his hoodies, which is even better) is insanely adorable.

Sam tries to focus on things like that to keep his mind away from the cutting cold. He’s lost feeling in most of his extremities what feels like ages ago, but that’s relatively normal for him. He gets cold very easily and knows that Gabriel won’t ever intentionally hurt him or put him in a harmful environment, so he also knows it’ll be okay.

    “We’re nearly there!” the angel promises and Sam only barely swallows his sigh of relief. He isn’t sure where ‘there’ is, considering all he can see through his frosted eyelashes is a pretty solid wall of swirling snowflakes, but he holds on to Gabriel and lets himself be guided.

 

All of a sudden a dark shape materializes in front of them, and after a few additional meters Sam can see that it’s some kind of wooden hut sat in the middle of nowhere and he really, really hopes that that is where Gabriel wants to take them. Quite simply, he is  _ soaked _ . He had only been wearing his brown canvas jacket, a flannel, a tee, a tank top and his regular faded jeans and workboots, which usually was enough to keep him comfortable, but that was just no match for this blizzard. So he’s wet  _ everywhere _ , clothes partially even freezing and he‘s pretty sure there are icicles in his hair. Literally the only source of warmth is Gabriel’s hand in his own.

    “Here we are!” Gabriel says loudly against the howling wind, flinging the door to the hut open. Sam has hoped for a crackling fire, but the only thing the hut offers is shelter from the wind and the ice, but definitely no warmth. It smells like wood smoke and lumber, a smell that stings a bit but is actually quite pleasant. There’s a enormous but cold fireplace right in the middle of the room with a sofa set before it (and possibly a bearskin rug too, but Sam can’t see it). A wood fire stove and a few cupboards are pushed against the wall to the left of the fireplace, and a gigantic four poster bed to the right, which Sam just wants to melt into, completely naked, and curl up in with the heavy blankets.

Gabriel slams the door shut and bolts it, letting go of Sam’s hand in the process, and as his ice cold fingers brush against his palm he shivers involuntarily. Gabriel of course picks up on it.

    “Are you cold, Samster?” he asks, because Sam’s mate is an idiot. Usually Sam would be sarcastic about it, or toss him a Class-A bitch face, but he just doesn’t have the energy.

    “I just walked through a fucking blizzard,” he replies tersely. “I’m literally freezing.”

Gabriel gets on tiptoes and kisses Sam, slowly and languidly, his warm fingers crawling under Sam’s shirt, setting the cold skin of his stomach ablaze and making the human shudder. Then Gabriel draws back and his wonderful body heat doesn’t envelop Sam anymore.

    “Strip,” he commands. Sam just stares at him. “C’mon, Samster, strip! I promise I’ll - okay, lemme just light a fire.”

He snaps and a huge flame billows up in the fireplace, immediately filling the room with crackling warmth. Sam lets his body relax and slump a bit, closing his eyes, drawing in the heat. He feels Gabriel’s nimble fingers at the buttons of his shirt and lets him pull it and the jacket off, the wet fabric hitting the floor with a dull thud. His tee and tank top are next, and he obediently lifts his arms to let Gabriel pull them off and throw it on the growing heap of his clothing. Sam’s skin is wet and cold, nipples hard, but definitely not from arousal. Then Gabriel begins opening his pants and the zing of pleasure that shoots through Sam is a Pavlovian response by now. His jeans go, then his boxers, and then Gabriel kneels down to take his shoes and socks off and then also the jeans and his underwear, until Sam is as naked as the day he was born.

He opens his eyes and smiles down at his boyfriend, still kneeling at his feet.

     “Better?” Gabriel grins.

     “Much.”

Gabriel divests himself of his clothing with much less finesse, and then he steps back into Sam’s space and hugs the cold human close. Sam hisses a bit at the sudden heat but presses as much of himself against Gabriel as possible. The archangel’s fingers card through Sam’s hair, breaking the frozen strands up.

    “Your  _ hair  _ was frozen, Samoose. Your hair.”

    “Yeah, well, you had me walk through a snowstorm, Gabe.”

Gabriel clicks his fingers again and puts them both in pajamas, soft flannel, long sleeves and also warm socks, and Sam is in heaven.

He lets himself be walked towards the couch and pushed down. The heat is insanely intense this close to the fire, but Sam still doesn’t react when Gabriel piles a few deliciously heavy blankets on him.

Then the archangel turns away and Sam protests: “Gabe, no! Come and cuddle me!”

    “Well I was gonna make some hot chocolate, Samster, but if you insist…” He flashes Sam a grin. Sam burrows deeper in the blankets, watching Gabriel fire up the stove and putter around. The open fire burns the side of his face turned towards it and he can feel his hair melt, which isn’t entirely pleasant, but the water doesn’t even have time to be cold before it runs into his collar.

Gabriel presses a huge mug into his hand and crawls under the blankets as well, snuggling tightly against Sam. Sam takes a sip of his hot chocolate. It’s good, it’s always so good. He doesn’t know what exactly Gabriel’s secret is, but his hot chocolate is creamy and chocolatey and delicious and one of Sam’s favorite things ever.

The archangel curls into a satisfied ball on Sam’s lap, quietly nursing his own hot chocolate.

Outside, the storm is still howling but here they have their loudly crackling fire and Sam knows that Gabriel is listening to his heartbeats. He understands why he was dragged through the snowstorm - he wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the warmth otherwise. And his body is recovering as well -  his ears and feet and hands are tingling with warmth and the hot chocolate is liquid heat inside him.

Gabriel languidly stretches out an arm to play with Sam’s mostly dry hair and nuzzles against the human’s chest a bit.

    “So…” Sam says slowly, a bit reluctant to break the comfortable silence between them. “How come we’re on vacation?”   
    “Mhm. You need more vacations,” comes Gabriel’s lazy reply.

    “We went to Paris last month.”

    “Yeah, and we had nonstop sex.”

Sam sniggers. “And we’re here for all the things one can do stuck in a blizzard in the Rockies?”

Gabriel smiles against his chest. “I love you, Samshine.”

Sam tries to contain the happy smile that spreads itself over his face in vain. “I love you too, Gabe.”

He loosely wraps an arm around the archangel and takes another swallow of his drink.

When they’re like this, they don’t need to talk much, or at all. It’s a lot easier to let the bond subconsciously do the work, exchanging small bursts and languid flows of pleasure and happiness and love. They don’t really have anything to talk about either - Gabriel knows how the hunt went and all he did in the few days they didn’t see each other while the brothers were hunting was reading in the Bunker’s library. And not having to do anything is nice, just cuddling and enjoying the other’s presence. Sam can feel himself winding down from years and years of watching his back all the time, never really relaxing because something might jump out at him, literally and metaphorically. He knows that that is why Gabriel does things like this, and it’s nice to have someone care the way the archangel does. 

Gabriel sighs contently and lets his and Sam’s empty cups float over to the stove where he stacks them neatly. Then he stretches out all over the hunter, rubbing his face against his chest and gives a low rumble of pleasure. Sometimes Sam pets his hair just right and he does really purr, though that’s their secret and Sam is not allowed to do that when they’re with other people, lest they know Gabriel’s secret weakness. (Though it is actually Sam’s dimples that  _ really  _ give Gabriel weak knees and butterflies in his stomach. He is absolutely not immune to his mate’s incredible allure.)

    “Gabe?” Sam is almost reluctant to break the comfortable silence again, but there’s something he’s been thinking about a lot. 

    “What is it, little moose?” Gabriel asks.

    “I was thinking … I’d like to … is there a way that I can see your wings all the time? Because they are … I like seeing them a lot.”

Gabriel straddles him and sits up, the blankets slipping away and giving way to the heat of the fire.

    “My wings, huh?” He lets them materialize behind and around him, a huge mass of rustling golden feathers. As an archangel, he has three pairs of wings, all different in size. Sam knows them well and loves burying his fingers in them or being blanketed by them at night. They’re also a reassuring sight somehow.

    “Did you know that I also have halos?” Gabriel asks quietly, watching Sam’s eyes go round.

    “Halos? Wait, plural?! You’ve got  _ several  _ halos? Why didn’t you ever show me?”

Gabriel shrugged. “They’re not that special. And I figured my wings were just, y’know,  _ more. _ ”

     “Show me!” Sam begs and Gabriel complies. Three interlinking halos shimmer into existence above his head, spinning and moving slightly. Sam’s slack jawed in wonder and reaches up with one hand to touch, but then he remembers that Gabriel is an  _ archangel  _ after all and that he maybe shouldn’t just touch without asking.

Gabriel sees the trepidation in Sam’s eyes immediately and catches his wrist before Sam has completely withdrawn his hand.

    “Come on, Sam, I won’t bite,” he promises and pulls Sam’s hand up to his halos again. “They just don’t look as pretty as they should because I haven’t polished them in ages, that’s all.”

    “You… you polish them?” Sam breathes in awe, pressing a thumb against the lowest curve of halo.

Gabriel makes a small sound. “I  _ should  _ polish them, yes. Technically I should keep up my appearance to, you know, convey my status.”

    “And how would you polish them?” Sam asks, still staring above Gabriel’s head, fingers gently rubbing over one of the halos.

Gabriel reaches up and pulls the topmost halo down and Sam looks terrified.

    “Aw, shush, Samster. It doesn’t hurt. They’re not really physically attached to me, they’re just … Grace.” He shrugs and begins rubbing his thumb over the halo.

Sam’s eyes are on him the entire time, still wide in awe, and his fingers gently stroking one of the two halos still on Gabriel’s head.

    “So, but the actual reason I bring up the halos is something different. You said you’d like to see my wings all the time, right? And I think I know how to do that. See, my halos are just another form of Grace, and since I do use Grace to show you my wings - ” Gabriel reaches out and takes Sam’s right arm, playing with the fingers.

    “So what I’m going to do is that I’ll give you this - ” He gives the halo in his hand a little twirl. “and it’s gonna attach itself to your skin. It will look just like a regular shiny bracelet, but you’ll be able to see me. Are you okay with that, Sam? I need your consent for this because I won’t be able to take it off without ripping apart your soul.”

    “I’ll be able to see you?” Sam breathes.

For a moment Gabriel fears that it’s a bad idea and the human won’t be able to stand the sight of him, but he knows that Sam is strong and has already seen two archangels without their vessels. He should be fine.

    “Yeah, kiddo. You’ll always be able to see me.”

    “Okay,” Sam says and Gabriel slips the halo over his fingers onto his wrist. It’s far too big at first but then it adjusts to the size of Sam’s wrist and gets thicker instead, still glowing brightly. The human watches intently and eventually brushes a tentative finger over the golden band.

    “It still feels like you,” he whispers, awed, and looks up.

Gabriel is terrifying. He’s all blinding glaring golden light and fire, a thousand faces all shifting over each other, roaring like a million waterfalls, filled with fury and love and devotion and anger, huge eyes boring their way into Sam’s soul, baring him to the blazing goldenness of Gabriel, arms and tendrils of his essence reaching towards him, static and lightning crackling along his wings, and Sam  _ burns _ and he can’t look at Gabriel, feels how he is ripped apart, torn to shreds and enveloped and  _ looked at _ and he’s terrified, so terrified of this - this  _ thing  _ in front of him, his blood roaring in his ears, the shrill ringing of Gabriel’s True Voice cutting through it, and the only thing he can do is cover his face with his hands and cower before the being in front of him. He might be sobbing, or he might be screaming but he can’t take it anymore, can’t take it, just wishes Gabriel would stop, would spare him. It’s the tiniest bit more bearable when he doesn’t look directly at the archangel, but he’s still enveloped in the supernova that is Gabriel, can feel himself being burned alive, laid bare, flayed before the archangel’s gaze. He welcomes the black edges of unconsciousness closing around him.

Gabriel’s heart falls when he sees Sam’s terror-stricken reaction, and it falls even more when the human shields his eyes and finally passes out. Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If Sam can’t stand the sight of him - 

Gabriel doesn’t dare to finish that thought. He’ll have to find a way to take his halo off the human again without destroying his soul. 

He snuggles down against Sam’s chest again, soaking in his heartbeats and warmth and smell, and desperately tries not to think about potentially losing his wonderful mate.

 

Sam can feel himself fading into awareness again, and the first thing he becomes aware of is the ringing in his ears, a lot more quiet now, and he can make out different notes and almost discern between different words. He leaves his eyes closed and concentrates on the ringing instead. It’s Gabriel’s True Voice, he knows that, but it almost feels like he could  _ understand it  _ if he listened just a bit closer.

Then he recognizes another voice as well, Gabriel’s physical voice. The archangel is singing softly, a song Sam knows very well even though he doesn’t understand the words. It’s Gabriel’s lullaby for him which he loves to sing in quiet moments. Gabriel’s lying on his chest, physical hands fisted into Sam’s pajama top. He seems to have folded his wings away because Sam can’t feel their weight anymore, but they’re still  _ there _ , rustling and crackling softly. He feels for their bond, pressing close to it for reassurance, and opens his eyes.

Gabriel is still terrifyingly bright, and the wings are, though folded, twitching and shivering just like they do when they’re physical, but Sam can see the Grace flowing through them, sees the lightning bolts flashing between them, but it feels less offensive and less … invasive somehow. So Sam lets himself look, really look at the archangel lying on his chest. It’s so easy to forget what a huge deal Gabriel really is when all he sees is 5 foot 8 of snark and love for candy, when him creating objects out of nothing has become so much a part of Sam’s daily life that it doesn’t seem remarkable anymore.

Hearing Gabriel’s True Voice is fascinating too. Sam feels  _ so close  _ to making out what Gabriel is saying, but at the same time he also wonders how that works, talking in both voices at the same time. But maybe Gabriel’s True Voice is more like active thought, and -

    “Sam?” Gabriel asks and his True Voice perks up too, gibbering more excitedly and … happily?

    “Hi Gabe. Sorry for, um, passing out.”

He can feel Gabriel trying to get up, but he presses a hand between his shoulderblades and holds him down.

    “Don’t, please. I still need to get used to seeing you, okay?”

    “Of course, Sam.” Gabriel relaxes against him, his wings fanning out a bit. Sam suddenly realizes that the things spinning in front of him are Gabriel’s remaining two halos, even more radiant now that Sam can really see him. He doesn’t dare to look down to Gabriel’s head yet, but instead observes the rest of Gabriel. He seems to be mostly humanoid, except for the odd tendril of Grace that would just … sort of waver around, almost curling around something before withdrawing again. Gabriel’s entire body is a mass of conflicting curls and twists and tufts of Grace, most golden, quite a lot of them blindingly white, but there are also a few very colorful ones. And he seems condensed in a way, like he was really pressed into his vessel and filled to the brim.

    “Is it uncomfortable?” Sam asks before he can stops himself. “Being confined to a vessel like that?”

Gabriel hums a bit against his chest. “I’ve forgotten what it feels like to not be in a vessel, to be honest. And it’s not too bad. I had to adjust, sure, but it’s been so long … it’s like wearing clothing that’s very snug, but also comfortable, I suppose. I’d like to try it out one day, though, stretching my wings properly again … maybe show you what I really look like when you’ve adjusted…”

Sam feels his heart beat quicker. “You - you think I can fully adjust to seeing you?”

The archangel heaves a sigh. “Sam, I don’t want to worry you or anything, but I don’t know. I just hope you will because otherwise … I can’t take it off you without killing you, so …” He trails off, hoping Sam understands without needing to hear it.

    “So we’d have to go our separate ways?” Sam breathes, voice trembling at the end.

Gabriel gives a short, physical jerk of his head against Sam’s chest, his fingers clenching tighter around the fabric in his hands. Sam wraps both his arms around the angel and squeezes him tight, already hurting from just thinking about it.

**I can’t lose you, Gabe. Please don’t make me have to lose you!** , he begs, willing away the tears that are forming in his eyes.

    “Sam,” Gabriel begins, sitting up, and Sam  _ screams _ as he sees the pain and longing and terror on Gabriel’s face, Gabriel’s true face, and he can feel himself panicking, feels how it’s too much, his brain going into overload, Gabriel growing more and more terrifying the more anguish he feels, and then Sam is gone again.

 

When he wakes up, Gabriel isn’t lying on his chest anymore but standing with his back to Sam in front of the fire. His wings lie folded against his back, not corporeal, but still  _ there,  _ and Sam would really enjoy that sight if he didn’t have the awful feeling that they’re seeing the last of each other.

So he gets up and hugs Gabriel from behind, closing his eyes so he doesn’t accidentally see his face again, and how terrible was it that he had to think something like that? He buries his face in Gabriel’s hair, dislocating his halos in the process. The archangel’s fingers find their way to Sam’s hands, squeezing them softly.

They both feel the spillover dread from the other one, and they don’t need to talk to know the inevitability of them being separate. 

    “I’m going to bring you back to the motel,” Gabriel whispers after an eternity of silence between them. Sam nods, not trusting his voice.

    “I don’t know what you’ll want to tell Dean, but eventually you’ll have to tell him the truth, okay, Sam?” Sam only gives a whimper against Gabriel’s hair.

    “Can we - can we at least Skype on occasion?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

    “Sam, no, Sam, I-” Gabriel only barely contains a sob. “I want you to move on, okay? Keep the halo, I still - I still love you after all, but this isn’t going to work out, so please move on, yes, Sam? Find someone to love, because I’d rather have you in love with someone else and happily together with them than in love with me but never able to be with me. Because I love you, Sam, and I don’t ever want you to forget that, alright? But I want you to be happy, so I’ll send you back to the motel now.”

Sam’s head snaps up in alarm. “No, no, Gabriel, wait, we can work that out, we can -”

 

    “- fix it…” he trails off, palms pressing against the rough duvet of the motel bed, head hanging low.

Dean physically recoils from Cas and nearly falls in the effort to get off the angel’s lap as quickly as possible.

    “Holy shit, Sam! I thought you were off somewhere with Gabriel,” Dean babbles instantly, cheeks flush with the mortification of being caught with Cas. They aren’t  _ not  _ out to Sam, but Dean’s repressed enough to nearly completely abstain from any sort of PDA in front of his brother, and Sam appeared in the room in the middle of a very heated make out session, so who can blame him?

Sam knows he should apologize and flee the room, but he feels like he can barely function, knowing that he just saw Gabriel for the last time. So instead of leaving he curls up with his face towards the wall on his bed, slipping under the duvet and just hoping he would already die, hit by a meteor, motel getting caught in a tornado, demon walking through the door and killing him.

    “Sam?” Dean asks again, obviously concerned, but Sam doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t ever want to talk again, just wants to stop breathing forever.

    “I have a feeling something happened, Dean,” Cas says in a low voice. “between Sam and my brother. I will attempt to talk to Gabriel.”

They kiss, very quickly and very chastely, but don’t they understand that Sam can hear them regardless? Then Cas is gone with a flutter of wings and Dean carefully edges closer to Sam’s bed.

    “Sammy?” he asks again, but doesn’t get a response. He nudges Sam’s shoulder, but again nothing.

 

Eventually Sam pulls himself up, and they go on the next hunt, a regular ghost case. And the next, where a couple of ghouls were desecrating graves. And the next, a wendigo case. And the next, another ghost. And the next, a poltergeist. Then comes a witch, a cursed object, a rougarou, a werewolf, a few vampires.

Sam stops crying himself to sleep after a few cases and instead runs himself ragged, pulling an enormous amount of research, finishing the cases faster and faster, always having the next one lined up before even finishing the current one. When he doesn’t have anything else to do, he exercises, pushing himself to the limit on a regular basis.

Dean is worried, of course, but he’s also secretly glad Sam puts so much into research, because that means he can sneak away with Castiel for some heated kissing in the Impala on a backroad somewhere. He drowns the crushing feeling of guilt he always has afterwards in booze and greasy food, but that doesn’t mean he turns Cas away when the angel texts him (or shows up in their room after Sam fell asleep). Not talking about problems is the Winchester way after all, and Dean loves nothing more than pretending everything is alright. He  _ knows  _ Sam is hurting,  _ knows  _ some shit went down between his brother and Gabriel, they most likely broke up and now it’s killing Sam, but they never talk about shit like that, they just don’t, so he convinces himself it will be  _ fine _ and ignores it. And it gets easier once Sam stops crying himself to sleep each night, gets easier once he comes to the bar with Dean and slams down shots all night, gets easier once Sam responds more, gets easier once Sam doesn’t stare out the window with heartbreak written all over his face because he’s buried in some article on his laptop.

He still sometimes sits in front of Skype for ages when there’s absolutely nothing to do, always waiting for someone - Gabriel - to come online, but he seems to be better. And Dean knows he’s being a terrible brother, but not talking is what they do, and as long as they pretend they’re okay, they can be okay, in some way.

 

But case after case wears Dean out. He’s thirty-seven after all, and he’d like to sleep in on occasion, not spend the night in the car when they’re diving somewhere while Sam drives, he’d like to wake up next to his boyfriend, he’d like to spend more than five minutes in the shower in the morning, and he’d like to spend a week or so in the Bunker on occasion for some r’n’r, cooking a bit, taking advantage of the heavenly water pressure for once, sleeping in a nice bed that doesn’t smell of sex and booze and cold smoke.

 

    “Sam, don’t you think we should swing by the Bunker maybe? Take the weekend off, since we’re in Kansas anyways. The next case doesn’t sound that urgent, does it?”

    “Not that urgent? Dean, what if someone dies and we could’ve prevented it?”

 

    “Hey, uh, so how about we just drive back to the Bunker tomorrow? There’s no new case, and maybe -”

    “Actually there is, in Montana. Sounds like a classic locked room scenario, three people dead so far of the same causes, but nobody could’ve gotten into the room they were in.”

 

    “I think we should check on the Bunker, make sure it’s still standing and all.”

    “Dean, the Bunker’s been there for  _ years.  _ Nothing happened to it.”

 

    “I’m pretty sure there’s a book about that that I’ve seen in the Bunker’s library. Maybe we should go there and check?”

    “Nah, I’ve got it.”

 

It’s not like Sam doesn’t understand why Dean wants to go back to the Bunker, back home, but he knows that if he stops working, he’ll just fall apart. He has half a mind to tell Dean to just go, go back to the Bunker and stay there for a bit while Sam hunts, so Dean doesn’t have to try and sneak around to get some alone time with Cas, but that’s not how it works and he knows fully well that they’d have to talk then, and how would Sam explain his situation anyways? His mate - and it’s such a beautiful thought, his  _ mate _ , Gabriel, the one being he loves more than he’s ever loved anyone and anything - broke up with him because Sam couldn’t stand the sight of his True Form.

So he doesn’t say anything and ignores it when Dean eventually starts grumping about how he’d really like to spend some time home - and that simple word hurts in a way Sam doesn’t really understand - and he isn’t really surprised when he wakes up after sleeping in the car and they’re in the Bunker’s garage, Dean having left him sleeping in the Impala.

Sam stretches a bit and then slouches back against the window. He really likes the Bunker, it’s just that he has so many memories of him and Gabriel there. 

But on the other hand there’s the infinitesimally small chance of finding a book or a record of - well, of how to cope with suddenly being able to see an angel. It wouldn’t be the first time the library has surprised him.

 

Sam can barely believe his eyes when he indeed finds a note stuck to a folder full of papers with barely legible signs and symbols that says  _ record of angel-human bonding - author claims that human was given halo of the angel (translation questionable) (dated approx. 1000 BC) (copied 1879, March 13th, by Alexander Winchester - file no. W-384) _

Sam feels his heart skip a beat. He tries not to crumble the old paper when he pulls it out of the folder. The symbols look like ancient Egyptian, and he could be wrong, but luckily they have a sort-of dictionary in the Library. Unluckily however, ancient Egyptian had a pictographic script and as different from English as possible. So Sam grabs his laptop and settles in for a long night.

 

Around two a.m. he’s managed to get through the first paragraph, in which the author more or less only explains that he can’t be held responsible for any information or misinformation, as he only got told about this by someone who’d heard about it from his cousin, who in turn heard that from a friend and so forth. Sam quickly checks the pages, but there are still twenty more to go, and already his head is swimming and he’s got a throbbing pain behind both his temples. The fire in the library is still burning high though, so at least he’s not cold, so he just restocks it quickly and gets some Tylenol from their impressive cabinet of medical supplies and some water to flush it down.

 

Time keeps going on in weird lapses. Sometimes he checks his laptop’s clock to see that only five minutes have gone and sometimes it’s half an hour. His stomach is growling almost continuously by five thirty and he’s feeling dizzy, both with hunger and excitement. It’s like he’s incomplete without Gabriel, disoriented even, the way you sometimes are when you’re waking up after a weird dream. And he keeps anticipating the archangel to just swoop in, appear randomly as he’s taking a shower or biting into his sandwich or taking off his shoes, making a snarky and often very sexual remark about just anything, be it Sam’s thoughts or the way he moved or just a random object in the room. He’s grown so accustomed to that happening that he’d even consciously think about what Gabriel would say about that particular situation, but, well … he’d been disappointed every time.

At least the text, from what Sam already translated, sounds very promising. The descriptions are incredibly flowery but precisely so, and the author had hinted several times that there was a happily ever after for the angel (Kaphariel - Sam would have to ask Cas about him. Or Gabriel, when he’d see him again) and his human.

So he takes a break and goes to the kitchen in search of food. There’s pretty much only frozen food because they learned the hard way that you shouldn’t keep much fresh food around when you’re bound to be gone on occasion, and most of what is in the freezer is Dean’s pizzas. Sam much rather prefers food made from scratch and Gabriel’s an even better cook than Dean and his pizzas are absolutely delicious. But at the moment there’s only several different brands of Dean’s favorite (which is Meatlovers, of course), so Sam shoves one in the microwave and looks for some hot spices to put on it to put up for the lack of pepperoni.

Instead, he finds some not-yet-expired milk which he drinks up while waiting for his pizza to finish. He wolfs down a slice immediately and wanders over to the couch in their makeshift lounge with the rest. Dean’s jacket is thrown over one of the arms, but neither he nor Cas are anywhere in sight, so Sam settles down in front of the fire they must’ve put on.

The couch they have is great for a multitude of reasons: it’s the most comfortable place in the world with the fire blazing in front of it, and it also suits Sam’s size. It’s long and broad enough that he can comfortably lie stretched out on it. He remembers endless hours of cuddling with Gabriel here, making out languidly, grooming the archangel’s wings, being tickled near-mercilessly, hearing Gabriel sing and hum ancient songs, and then it strikes him.

_ Gabriel. _ Gabriel who is an archangel, who’s been around forever. Sam would bet his  _ life _ (not that it’s worth that much) that his mate can read ancient Egyptian.

**Heya, Gabe.** He begins, a bit unsure since he hasn’t prayed since they sort of broke up and he isn’t sure Gabriel will even listen.

Unbeknownst to him, on one of the highest branches of a redwood tree far, far away from Sam, Gabriel receives his prayer and shudders in delight and instantly tunes out of the forest he’d been listening to and instead focuses completely on the human.

**So, um, I don’t know whether you get this** \- of course he does! He could never not listen to his mate’s prayers -  **or whether you’ll even want to listen** \- Gabriel’s mate can be so incredibly  _ stupid  _ sometimes; it’s beyond the archangel’s comprehension -  **but um, I think I found a description of our situation. It’s just that, well it’s written in ancient Egyptian, and I do have a way of translating it, it just takes forever and I thought that maybe … that you maybe know ancient Egyptian and that you could maybe translate it for me?**

Sam swallows heavily and stares into the fire.  **I love you, Gabriel, and I could never lose you and I can’t - I can’t just love someone else and be happy with them. It doesn’t work that way, and I knew that I couldn’t lose you when … when we mated.** He trails off. He isn’t even sure whether Gabriel listened to his prayer or paid it any heed.

**Gabe?** He asks again.  **Would you just … tell me whether you got that and … and what you’re going to do?**

Sam is only hoping for a text message in return, since that is usually how they communicate when they’re so far apart. Gabriel tends to fly right onto Sam’s lap and disrupt everything either of them had been doing otherwise. Also Gabriel has difficulties forming words instead of sentiments through the bond and easily gets distracted by showering Sam in mental affection.

He doesn’t expect the flood of love and adoration and longing barging through their bond. He also doesn’t expect the loud and clear:  **Close your eyes!**

As soon as he does, there’s a sudden weight on his lap and there’s papers shuffling, wings whispering lightly, the almost deafening ringing of Gabriel’s True Voice pretty much vibrating with happiness and his warm smell is surrounding Sam again. The human immediately grabs hold of the archangel, crushing him as close as possible and whimpering in happiness.

    “I missed you, Gabriel, oh God, I missed you so much, so much, Gabe, I love you, love you forever and ever and -” The frantic press of Gabriel’s lips on his silences him and he immediately slides his hand into the archangel’s hair, kissing him desperately, eyes screwed shut. If he paid more attention to his surroundings he would hear the papers Gabriel brought with him flutter to the ground, but he doesn’t. Instead he opens his mouth to allow Gabriel inside, relishing in the hot slide of their tongues against each other. Gabriel clings desperately to him, and he must’ve brought his wings out, because Sam can feel them folded around them, pressing in close and separating them from the rest of the world.

He pulls away from Gabriel with a gasp, panting for air, and presses their foreheads together, grinning almost manically.

     “Sam,” Gabriel says, nudging their noses together. “Sam, it’s so easy, it’s been so easy all along, why didn’t I realize that earlier? You just -” He shuffles and presses his hands against the marks of their bond on Sam’s skin. Whether or not he wears clothing is irrelevant for the connection and they can both immediately feel themselves just locking into place, like two parts of the same whole that were meant to be together all along.

    “Open your eyes, Sam,” Gabriel whispers. “Come on. You’ll be able to stand it, I promise.”

Sam swallows and finally dares to open his eyes. He gasps as he sees Gabriel again, but he can see  _ both  _ versions of him, the normal, human-looking one, and his True Form. 

Human-looking Gabriel grins as the hunter surges up to kiss him.

    “Better?” He asks giddily between kisses and Sam laughs, holding him close. It’s a bit weird, seeing two overlapping faces and bodies, but the True Form seems to be on the backburner most of the time, and after some adjusting, Sam can let it fade out of his view and see the human form of his mate again, which is far less headache-inducing.

    “So, the bond marks?” It still sounds too easy to be true.

Gabriel smiles and runs his thumb along Sam’s jaw. “Apparently they’re good for something other than really awesome orgasms.” Sam snickers and buries his face in the nape of Gabriel’s neck.

**We’re idiots, aren’t we?**

    “Maybe a bit, Samshine. The only thing I’ve learned is to not do weird things on a hunch.”

Sam sighs.  **It could’ve been really nice…**

    “I’ll take you again. Not the same place, but somewhere similar, yes? What do you think of the Alps?”

**Maybe somewhere warm for a change? Somewhere with a beach … I haven’t been swimming in ages.**

Gabriel snorts. “Do I get to put you in a Speedo?”

Sam pulls back from Gabriel’s shoulder and pokes him. “Of course not.”

    “Alright then, Samster, where do you wanna go?”

    “I have no idea where people go for a beach vacation, Gabe. I have no idea where people go for any sort of vacation. Wonder why.”

Gabriel spares a moment to roll his eyes at Sam and then he clicks his fingers and whisks them away to a decidedly more tropical climate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just self-indulgent fluff and smut. That's literally all it is...

    “No.”

Gabriel pouts. “Please?”

    “There are places where I really don’t want to have sand.”

    “It’s not like  _ you’re  _ the bottom, and  _ I _ don’t mind the sand.”

    “Yeah, you say that now.”

The archangel rolls his eyes but doesn’t leave his perch on Sam’s chest. “Okay, no sex on the beach. How about in the water?”

    “ _ In the water _ ?!” Sam snorts. “No!”

    “You won’t have sex with me on the beach, you won’t have sex with me in the water… where on Earth are we going to have sex then?”

Sam chuckles and runs his fingers up Gabriel’s sides. “I never said I wouldn’t have sex with you on the beach. I just said I wouldn’t have sex on the sand.”

His mate blinks owlishly at him. “Then how-”

    “Blanket,” Sam prompts. 

Gabriel glares at him. “And you couldn’t have said that earlier?”

Sam grins and begins rocking his pelvis against Gabriel’s, holding him down by his hips with one hand and winding the fingers of his other hand through the smaller man’s hair. “I like sleeping with intelligent people. It makes for better pillow talk.”

    “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute, Samuel,” Gabriel growls, wriggling out of his grip and onto his back on the blanket that miraculously came into being next to them only a few moments prior. He spreads his legs and looks back at Sam. “Well?”

Much to his annoyance, the human bursts out laughing. 

    “And they say romance is dead!”

    “Samuel Winchester, you have thirty seconds to come over here and start kissing me.”

Sam scrunches his nose up. “I was actually going to go for another swim.”

He leans over to Gabriel, presses a quick kiss to his shoulder and is on his way, blue swimming trunks low on his hips, obscuring his ass a bit but excellently highlighting his hipbones and narrow waist, and Gabriel can only stare.

He loves that Sam isn’t afraid of teasing back, but this is aggravating. Very aggravating. And also distracting. Damn, but Sam has a fine ass. And back. And those arms. And his beautiful long legs. Oh Father, the shoulders. And that neck.

**I can** **_feel_ ** **you staring, Gabe.**

    “Then come back here and make me stop!” He calls, but Sam only laughs and throws himself into the water.

Gabriel pulls his knees up to his chin. It’s not that he can’t wait - as an archangel, he doesn’t really have a libido that needs to be satisfied, and he won’t get cranky if he doesn’t get laid - but he really likes having sex with Sam. He also knows that his mate will return sooner rather than later, but he figures if Sam deems it acceptable to let him wait, the least he can do is give his mate something pretty to look at to maybe make him come back quicker.

His wings swoosh softly as he releases them, and they eagerly soak up the warm sunlight, rising and stretching like he hasn’t allowed them to in a long time. 

Sam, who has already turned back, stills for a moment when he sees the huge golden appendages stretched out. Gabriel knows Sam is seeing them in their True Form as well, and a tiny shiver runs through the wings at the thought of that, knowing that Sam can see all of him and that for the first time in millenias, Gabriel is stripped bare in front of another being. The feathers rustle slightly, and then Sam is moving towards him again.

The sun is already low on the sky and casts Sam in perfect golden light from behind, making him glow around the edges and the droplets of water that cling to his skin glisten. Sam is obviously very attractive all the time, but Gabriel feels like he sometimes gets too used to that. Luckily there are moments like this where he is struck absolutely breathless. Another stroke of luck is that he doesn’t need to breathe at all, because with a few long strides Sam is towering above him, and then he gracelessly falls to his knees and kisses Gabriel with fervor.

They tumble down onto the blanket and Gabriel lets himself be ravaged by his human, opening his mouth and legs pliantly, wings spread submissively because he isn’t blind to how much of a turn-on they are to Sam.

Surely enough, one of Sam’s hands find their way into the sensitive insides of the wings and Gabriel groans immediately, hiking his legs up to grind against Sam. He had been a bit too busy ogling Sam, apparently, because now it’s difficult to get himself to focus and do more than just rub himself against the human. When Gabriel finally manages to re-engage his brain, he pushes a hand between their bodies and rubs his thumb over Sam’s nipple. There is something incredibly disarming about the way Sam arches his back and whimpers whenever Gabriel does this, so he wedges his knee between Sam’s legs and does it again, watching his human rock his hips against his knee and strain against the sensation so beautifully, mouth open, eyes closed, hair falling over his face. He considers restraining Sam to watch him squirm, but then Sam smiles down at him and kisses him slowly.

    “Hey,” he whispers, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. “You smell good.”

Gabriel buries his hands in Sam’s hair and they share a secret smile. Then Sam very gently rolls his hips against Gabriel’s and the archangel decides that trunks are decidedly unnecessary.

Sam laughs breathily and lets Gabriel push him onto his back, the laughter turning to whimpers as he litters kisses over the human’s torso, nuzzling his belly button until Sam is giggling again, and then Gabriel presses his cheek against Sam’s abdomen and smiles dreamily, hands bracketing his hips gently.

Sam smiles down at him and brushes an unruly lock out of Gabriel’s eye. 

    “We should do this more often,” he whispers, barely audible over the rolling waves in the background. 

    “Agreed. But I don’t think you need the swimming trunks.”

Sam snorts. “Do you  _ have  _ to turn everything sexual?”

Gabriel shimmies up to Sam’s face again. “Aww, you know me, Samshine. Know I can’t be stopped.”

Sam takes the archangel’s face in his hands and kisses him solidly, holding him close.

    “I love you,” he says and watches Gabriel’s eyes light up like they always do. The feathers brush in close, tickling his shoulders and sides, red-gold sunset filtering through them.

    “I love you too,” the archangel whispers, bumping their noses together affectionately.

A cool breeze washes over them, raising goosebumps on Sam’s still damp skin, and Gabriel rubs teasingly over Sam’s upper arms.

    “Getting cold there, Sammich?”

Sam full-out smirks, obviously very proud of what he thought of: “Oh, I know an antidote against that.”

Gabriel giggles, dipping his head back onto Sam’s clavicle, but before he has a chance to respond, Sam gently rolls his hips up against him.

    “Good antidote?” the human whispers and Gabriel giggles again, a bit more breathlessly due to the hand sliding down his back and appreciatively squeezing his ass.

    “Mmh-hm,” he gasps, wriggling a bit to align their cocks and Sam gives a breathy moan.

He holds his mate’s hips down and begins thrusting upwards seriously, quickly covering their stomachs in slick precum because this, moving with Gabriel like they’re the same being, their cocks bumping against each other, Gabriel’s soft gasps against his clavicle, his back turning slightly more wet with his oil, the great rustle of his wings around them, his True Voice singing in his ears, this is Sam’s everything and he doesn’t want to give it up ever. 

Finally Gabriel throws his wings back and sits up on Sam’s hips, bracing himself on Sam’s pecs, his pinky brushing over the bond mark, and that sends another delicious spark through Sam. 

    “Come on,” Sam pants, grinning up at his mate.

    “Oh yeah? Whaddaya want, Sam? Got something specific in mind?” He smiles back, and for a moment they both get lost in each other, the feeling of skin on skin, eyes locked into each other, their physical proximity only serving to strengthen their bond further. The setting sun illuminates Gabriel perfectly from behind, setting him in golden light as befitting the Enlightener.

And that’s when Gabriel whacks him with one of his wings. Only lightly, but right across the cheek so Sam’s head does a full ninety degrees into the blanket.

    “What was  _ that _ for?” He sputters indignantly.

    “You’re supposed to get a damn move on, Winchester. I wanna get laid and I’ll need your cooperation for that.”

    “ _ Fine, _ ” Sam growls, grabbing Gabriel’s hips and hauling him up, running his fingers through the accumulated oil on the archangel’s back and nudging at his hole. Gabriel runs his thumb over the inside of Sam’s elbow, pressing his butt back into his mate’s hand. Dad, he could write  _ odes _ about those hands, so strong, so firm, just the right side of callused.

Oh, and the fingers. He can start with two (well, technically he doesn’t need any prep at all, but Sam loves it and well, he’s pretty damn good at it, so Gabriel’s not going to complain), even though they’re so nicely long and thick.

    “Mmhm, right there, Samster, riiight there.” Gabe lets his hips fall into an easy rhythm, watching how Sam bites his lips, pupils going big and round.

    “God, Gabriel,” Sam finally gasps and he sits up, yanking Gabriel close by his hair and shoving his tongue into the archangel’s mouth. Gabriel collapses against Sam and wraps his wings around them, spreading his scent on his mate’s skin and tangling his fingers in Sam’s long locks, pulling on them just enough to make Sam groan and not only buck his hips upwards, but also jab his fingers right into Gabriel’s prostate. Gabriel whimpers and pulls free of the kiss, letting his forehead fall to Sam’s shoulder, and he begins riding Sam’s fingers in earnest, pressing little open mouthed kisses to whatever skin he can reach, smothering his moans in the golden skin under him. Sam chuckles breathlessly, pulling his fingers out for a moment to slather them in more oil. He considers asking Gabriel to turn over so he can actually lick the oil off his back and his dick twitches in response to that thought.

Instead he attaches his mouth to Gabriel’s neck, biting and sucking welts into the soft skin, marking him as Sam’s for the entire rest of the world to see, and pushes three fingers back inside, feeling his mate shudder against him as he tugs at his rim, slowly pushing and spreading him further open.

    “Sam!” Gabriel gasps, his back bowing involuntarily as Sam rakes his fingers over the sensitive inside of Gabriel’s left tertiary wing, the most sensitive one, making feathers stick up and even more oil seep out of the glands. “Come on. ‘M ready. Please!”

Sam pulls his fingers out and runs them through the oil on Gabriel’s back again and licks them clean.

**You taste - so amazing, babe, so amazing, I -**

    “Will you fucking put your dick inside of me already,” Gabriel growls, his nails biting into Sam’s sides and Sam laughs breathily, kissing his way up to Gabe’s jaw until he can look into his eyes again.

    “I love you so much, Gabe, but …  _ God _ , you’re impatient.”

    “Shove -” Gabriel begins, but Sam tugs at his lower lip with his teeth and positions his dick with his other hand, the tip barely nudging the archangel.

Gabriel grinds down immediately, his butt flush with Sam’s thighs.

He completely misses Sam’s dick.

They both groan in frustration immediately.

    “That’s what you get for being impatient,” Sam breathes, hauling him up again and pressing his tip against Gabriel’s hole again, this time holding him in place with his wings, the grip just bordering on painful. Gabriel’s squirming, rubbing his own arousal against Sam’s abs, his wings loading themselves up with static. Sam knows from experience that the air can get pretty charged when Gabriel’s aroused, and on one or two memorable occasions there have indeed been sudden explosive thunderstorms happening just as the archangel came.

**Gabe.**

    “ _ What!? _ ”

    “I love you,” Sam gasps and slides home.

They spend a moment pressing their faces together and desperately trying to regain control over their breathing. Then Sam shifts up onto his knees, holding tightly to Gabriel.

    “Love you,” he repeats, a bit tersely because the sweet slick pressure around his cock is just exactly right, Gabriel tensing around him every time he draws out, tiny whimpers escaping the archangel on each thrust.

Gabriel begins rolling his hips against Sam, trying out the angle and looking for the best way to hit that special spot inside. The human lets him move on top of him, gasping whenever Gabriel clenches up.

Gabriel’s wings spread on their own volition, displaying the sensitive undersides to Sam and he takes that chance, runs his fingers through them and Gabriel  _ mewls _ , throwing his head back and snapping his hips harder against Sam. Sam starts grinning because this, this is what he missed for weeks,  _ weeks _ , and now they’re together again and it’s glorious. The slide of their skin together, the whisper of Gabriel’s wings, their whimpers and moans that fill the air, the way Gabriel reaches out for their bond mark and digs his fingers into Sam’s flesh.

Sam bucks his hips up to meet Gabriel and holds his waist, flipping them over and bending the archangel in half, groaning loudly at the change in pressure against his dick. Gabriel’s wings flutter uselessly for a moment until he starts using them as leverage to push back against Sam.

    “Hey. Look at me, Samster.”

Sam does and Gabriel is positively glowing. His Grace shows through his eyes with so much love for Sam that he stops moving for a moment, breath catching in his throat.

Gabriel moves for him, rolling his hips slowly, letting out a shuddering breath.

    “Feel so good, Sam…”

Sam picks up thrusting again, pulling almost completely out and then pushing back in, slowly, making his mate feel every inch of the ten and a half he has to give. Gabriel whimpers, his eyes falling shut. 

Sam hits his prostrate on the third thrust and makes them both moan. He latches his lips to Gabriel’s pulse point and sucks in time with his thrusts.

Gabriel keens and just holds on to his mate, clenching tightly around Sam because he knows how amazing it feels and how much he loves it.

Sam thrusts another four or five times, hitting his prostrate dead on, and Gabriel can feel his control over his vessel slipping. His mouth has fallen open sometime during sex and he just lets the moans spill out. The air is pure electricity, crackling and condensing around them. He presses his hands to the correlating bond marks on Sam’s skin.

Then Sam slams into him again and simultaneously buries his fingers in the underside of Gabriel’s wings and the archangel’s gone, spurting across their stomachs and clenching down hard on Sam. The human stills for the fraction of a second and then the feeling of Gabriel’s orgasm hits him via their bond and Sam whites out as well, the connection kicking him over the edge, and he screams Gabriel’s name.

His hips jerk a few times and the he stills, letting them fall backwards and stretch out on their blanket, the sea rolling softly in the background.

**Ahhhh~**

    “Happy?” Gabriel murmurs sleepily.

    “Yeah. God yeah.”

Apart from a slim golden strip at the horizon the sky has gone completely dark and the first stars are fading into view. Sam feels himself slip out of Gabriel and hugs the archangel closer. The two spinning halos on top of Gabriel’s head are joined by the one on his wrist, softly illuminating the couple, and Sam feels himself doze off, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! C:


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